Elysium
by torpens
Summary: She never thought she could feel two emotions that conflicted so much. She never thought that until she met Akihito Kanbara.
1. Prologue

The more she paced, the more she thought about how much she hated him. She absolutely hated him. Akihito Kanbara was everything bad in the world, wrapped up in one goofy smile. One charming, fleeting, goofy smile that would slide into a soft laugh and never failed to rip the breath from her chest. It was so sickening, that she'd let him get close enough to her to break down her carefully buil walls, that he was able to hit nerves without even trying. He left her as a gaping mess when she thought that he'd finally stick around. Maybe the fever was just getting to her. Maybe she really was sick.

"Kuriyama-san." It was him. Of course it was him. She glanced up slowly, my eyes thick with sleep and let out a small yawn, fingers tightening in the soft pink sheets.

"I still don't feel good, Senpai." It was unconvincing, flat, but she couldn't take it back. She simply drew the blankets farther over her head and sighed. Three days out of school, three nights he'd been spending at my apartment. She couldn't afford to be out another day, it was a known fact and neither could he, but there was something so peaceful that came from being alone with him, having all the time she needed for picking him apart, finding his flaws. It wasn't natural, but it still happened unconsciously. Desire burned hot in her chest with every new weakness she managed to expose. It was joy.

"Right, of course. Do I need to babysit you another day?" She hated that term. Babysit. They were nearly the same age.

"You're so unpleasant," She muttered, tossing my blanket off, aiming for him offhandedly. Once she hade been uncovered, the cool air seeped into her skin, penetrating deep until she was rushing to the bathroom with her uniform in hand, trying to escape the chill.


	2. Chapter 1

A week previous to the whole mess, there'd been the first snowfall. It seemed to quiet everything down, to slow everything to a craw. Mirai didn't seem to miss a beat, though. It was all the same: school, eat, blog, eat, sleep. She saw nothing special about the winter here. All it brought was isolation and hushed whispers, the slam of distant classroom doors, and a cold that chilled her to the bone. The members of the Literary club seemed to be even more exclusive. Twice in the same day, they'd had meetings and Mirai couldn't help but think they were avoiding her on purpose. It didn't matter, did it? They never really needed her anyway.

With a slow sense of mild disinterest, her eyes caught the clock and she muttered under her breath, standing from her seat. Only two other students remained in the classroom. How had she missed the bustle of everyone else leaving? With a click of her a tongue, a raven haired girl shook her head and left. Alone, she stood and collected her things, heading out into the winter's harsh grip, without so much as a coat. Akihito's words echoed in her head, reminding her how stupid it was to walk all the way home without something to keep her warm, but she had just disregarded her so easily. After all, it wasn't completely unbearable. In fact, it was slightly insulting that he thought she was weak enough to need a coat at all.

In order to avoid everyone, she took a back road to her house. She ended up home with minimal damage, numb fingertips and a pink nose, but nothing worse. She'd live another day to refuse the troublesome half-youmu. It wasn't long before she was fed and in bed, out of lack of better things to do, and fast asleep, waiting for the next day to drone on.

It went just as she had planned: waking up, going to school, all up until lunch. A sudden wave of nausea ran through her and she nearly wretched on her mouthful of noodles before swallowing them down. Well, that was unusual. Normally food did the opposite, warding off any ill-feelings throughout the day. Shuddering, she pushed the bowl away and gasped softly at the pain that ran through her before standing and walking away from the table. Avoiding eye-contact, she managed to make it all the way to the infirmary, the sick feeling slowly setting into her. It wasn't so much nausea anymore, but chills wracking her small frame.

Not twenty minutes had passed before she was on her way home with such a pitiful excuse. A cold. Of course it was a cold, but the nurse had been fairly insistent when telling her about the fever she'd had. Too hot to be in school, of course, so she'd left with a word and found comfort on the couch as soon as she got home. Curled in her favorite blanket, she quickly drifted off to sleep with little distraction from the real world. Sleeping was surely better than watching the snow continue to pile up, wasn't it?

She woke with a jump at the sharp rapping of knuckles against her door and pushed her fingers back. Unlike she'd wanted, Mirai hadn't woken up feeling restful at all. Instead, her limbs ached and her head rolled because it was heavy with sleep. Her mouth tasted sour and her eyes didn't want to stay open, but she still marched toward the door. With an irritated grunt she pulled it open, only to meet the concerned eyes of none other than Akihito. of course.

"S-senpai?" She asked, playing dumb for a moment and rubbing her eyes before stepping to the side to let it him. It was more out of necessity, keeping the cold air out, but it was probably polite, too. He clicked his tongue and stepped inside, shedding his coat and instinctively, she took it, playing it over the back of the chair.

"You left school." It was silent for a moment, something that surprised her, but before she could speak again, he continued. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, swatting a slender hand at him before turning toward the other room and moving back to her little nest on the couch. "It's nothing but a little cold. I'll be back tomorrow." She didn't feel up to par, but her deceiving abilities were still in tact. She'd try to be back for the next days lessons, but the only way that would happen would be if she got a lot more sleep and sweat out the fever. She'd also need food, but that could wait until he was gone. If there was one thing more unpleasant that him in general, it was eating in front of him. Every comment about eating seemed to grate on her nerves.

"You're sure? Let me check your temperature," he said, stealing closer to sit beside her, pressing a slightly clammy hand to her forehead. She shoved his hand away quickly and huffed.

"I told you I'm fine," she muttered, "and now you're just being unpleasant." Akihito seemed to lighten before her slightly with the insult before his brows furrowed and he sighed. Something about the small action told her that things weren't getting better, not yet.

"You should have told me. I would have walked with you." He always seemed so serious when she went off on her own. It was almost like he didn't see her as her own person. Ever since the day on the ledge, ever since she'd found out about his glasses fetish, it had almost seemed like she was his little doll. He was just a protective child. There were times when it didn't matter that much, when she could actually deal with it, but normally she just felt crushed. He was worse than a helicopter parent.

"It was out of my way, Senpai," she said, eyes trained on the small television across the room. Fingers curled into the fabric of the puffed pink blanket and she drew it up to her chest, raising her shoulders in a small shrug. "It's not really any of your concern, either."

He froze, eyes narrowing fractionally before he leaned back, watching her with a new sense of distance, couple with mild frustration. She knew why, despite playing innocent. It got to be this way every time he tried to baby her. He always made her his concern, but she couldn't say with a great deal of certainty that it was what she wanted. She needed to take care of herself and she wished he'd just do the same. That way everything would be so much easier. A quiet seemed to settle over the two before Akihito cleared his throat and looked over at her one more time, then sighed.

"Fine, I'll just go, then." There was a moment between his silence and the moment he stood that seemed to be bittersweet. She did want him to leave, but... But he didn't have to sound so angry about it, did he? Was this his point, to guilt her into letting him stay. She opened her mouth, sighing before mumbling.

"I'll see you tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 2

She didn't live up to it. When the next morning came around and her alarm went off, Mirai couldn't find the will to get up. Her head was still pounding fiercely, making it hard for her to even open her eyes, less get up. The moment she'd tried, her legs seemed to turn into sand and she simply fell back into bed with a huff. She could call in later. Akihito couldn't be too mad at her, right? She was sick after all.

It took nearly twenty minutes just to find a state where she could keep her eyes open. Even then, it didn't really seem worth being awake. After a moments deliberation, she snuggled back into her blanket, the blond boy flashing though her head once more before sleep wrapped around her, pulling her away.

The next time she opened her eyes, it was to the sound of a voice, or rather, someone clicking their tongue. She simply rolled over and let sleep take her once more. It wasn't so hard to ignore as it had stopped fairly quickly. It was nice, like the tick of a clock, maybe. Once more, she woke up and turned, sitting. Her mouth was dry and she let out a groan, her body stiff. Maybe the napping went a bit overboard, but at least her headache was finally going away. As she swung her legs to get off her bed, they connected with a fairly soft surface.

"I was wondering when you were going to get up, Kuriyama-san."

"S-se-senpai!" Jolting away, her back hit the wall and she kicked her pillows at him. What was he doing in her house? More importantly, why was here without permission. Didn't he have a class to be in or something? After several deep breaths, she glanced at the clock and whined.

"I could hear you stirring," he continued, standing and looking down at her. "I made tea. It's supposed to help with fevers." She hissed through grinding teeth and briefly touched her forehead once he'd stepped out, surprised at how warm she really was. Once she relaxed her jaw, vertigo hit her and she began to stand, gripping the bed frame with clammy fingers, making her way into the kitchen.

"I thought you said you'd be in today." Of course he was talking again. It was like him to go on without skirting the real issue here.

"Why are you here, Senpai?" Now she was beginning to get annoyed. All she wanted was an answer, after all.

"Huh? Oh, well I'm making sure you're still alive and well." Pause. Deliberation. "Well, I mean, of course I assumed you're not well. After all you did miss sch-" Another pause. This time, his voice hung in the air and he seemed a bit troubled.

"What is it?" She asked, almost snapping like she'd wanted to.

"Where are your glasses, Kuriyama-san?"

"Tch, pervert. I don't sleep with them on." He seemed surprised for a moment before disappearing the way she'd come, and after a moment, he came out, red spectacles in tow.

"Put them on. After all, you'll want to be able to see just how hard I've been working for you." He flashed a cheesy smile as she slipped the glasses over her nose, wiggling them into place. He nodded, clearly pleased with himself and set back to the stove, making tea in the kettle she kept above the refrigerator. He'd gone through her things as well? She almost stepped forward, objections on her lips, but noticed a small canister of tea next to him and two mugs she didn't recognize. He'd... He'd brought them? Something else passed over her and she reluctantly took a seat.

"I don't need you taking care of me, you know? I'm perfectly capable." Though she spoke firmly, a cough wracked her slender frame and Akihito laughed.

"How? Sleeping all day?" Without even turning, she knew there was a skeptical look plastered on his face. It was so typical that he'd doubt her, no matter how nice he seemed. She could only hope he'd put a bit of faith into her once day. Wouldn't it just be great? The fog on her glasses came as a bit of a surprise and she looked down, a mug of deep brown tea near her hands. Her thoughts had been spinning so quickly she hadn't even noticed him approaching. Though she wouldn't ever admit it, she appreciated the tea, or at least the thought behind it. She'd have to test the tea to make sure it was alright, though. After all, he was a pervert.

Their eyes met for a moment as she brought the mug to her lips, eyes circling the rim and then finding his gaze once more. There is was, that stupid smile once more before he was jabbering again, like a broken record.

"Drink up. It's good for you!"

Hm, if only to shut him up. Slowly, she let her lips fall apart, taking a long drink of the scalding tea, trying not to cringe as it burned her tongue. Instead, she used her amusement from watching his eyes widen as a sort of distraction. He knew it should burn her, too. Oh what having a high pain tolerance could achieve.

"There, I drank," she said, jerking her chin at him. "Now answer this: how did you get in?" Usually the front door was locked. He laughed and looked at her, eyes shining with incredulity.

"Well, I knocked for a while, then I tried the door. It was unlocked, so I figured you were up and about. Once I was inside, though, I couldn't help but notice how warm you keep it in here." The way he spoke made it all seemed so casual, breaking and entering into her house, hovering over her like she was some object, using her things. He laughed once more and she seemed to forget everything. She was under his curse, drawn from her troubles in the moment and she wished, so desperately, that she could break free from it, if only just for a moment. She didn't want to feel like she owed him. Not for taking care of her, not for anything.

"Try to call me next time. Or just don't waltz in. Either would be good alternatives." Her eyes narrowed slightly and she dropped her head, taking a slightly dejected sip of tea. Her head had begun to throb again as well as grow tight with the fever that was eating away at her. Supporting her head with her fist, she leaned closer to the table. Too tired to fight properly, so she might as well give up for now.

"Try to let me know if you're sick. Text me."

"It's not your business."

You're my bu-" His voice cut off and the silence weighed the two of them down uncomfortably.

"I'm your what?" She asked, eyes narrowing and she leaned forward. She didn't like the way that the sentence was going, not at all.

"Nothing. You're my nothing." He stood, cheeks hinting pink with shame, embarrassment, and collected his canister, dumping the full mug of tea down the sink. "Feel better. Let me know if you still don't feel better."

She simply scoffed, watching him leave, but her fingers were curled tightly around the mug. She hadn't expected it to sting. She was absolutely nothing to him? Why should she have hoped otherwise? They were just friends. Finally, she muttered something toward the cup.

"Thanks for the tea."


End file.
